


A Room With A View

by trulywicked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Fluff, Hales Live, Humor, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Bakes, The Supernatural is Known, cop Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3610260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trulywicked/pseuds/trulywicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange man's junk swaying in his face was not what Derek had wanted to be greeted with when he opened his faux balcony door tonight but then the universe just liked to screw with him so of course that's exactly what he sees,</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sachiela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sachiela/gifts).



> I blame Sachiela for this. She _HAD_ to encourage me with this madness.  
>  This was based off a [tumblr post](http://snatchedweaves.tumblr.com/post/84498344317/room-with-a-view) that I not-fic ranted about and then Sachiela wanted more so, her fault.

Sometimes Stiles wondered if there was some kind of strange thing in his aura that drew all the nutsos to him like mosquitoes to a zap light. All he’d wanted was a fun night out with a nice hook up. He had the fun night out, the newest incarnation of the Jungle was an excellent nightspot, and had hooked up with the really, really pretty Lex of the astoundingly short skirt and gone back to Lex’s place where he’d been stripped naked as fast as possible and pushed onto the bed, no complaints at that point. _None at all._

Then he’d found himself handcuffed to the bed. He didn’t mind being cuffed to the bed by a hook up or a lover per se but it really was something that needed to be discussed beforehand, even during a hook up. He’d planned to bring it up after the fun, because he was cool with it but consent was sexier than assumption, then Lex had opened the closet, pulled out a box and taken sex toys from it and every last cell in his body and neuron in his brain had resounded with refusal. 

The vibrator and cock ring, maybe another night after a long discussion of kinks and safewords, but the whip was not on his list of even mildly acceptable and the set of sounding rods were a whole new world of hell the fuck no.

He opened his mouth to express the exact depth of NO and put an end to this hook up when Lex’s phone rang.

“Damn. This is Lex. Let me go see, you know you really interrupted something just now.”

Stiles watched Lex walk out of the bedroom and close the door. Then he got to work twisting and wiggling and in under a minute he was out of the handcuffs and ready to get his clothes and get the fuck out. His clothes that had been stripped off in the living room. Shit.

Well he’d just have to walk out and get them, put them on while lecturing Lex on kink negotiation and consent. Yeah that was exactly what he’d do. He marched for the bedroom door then caught sight of the inside of the closet.

A ritual circle painted in crisp lines, the runes perfectly clear and precise, hanging herbs, candles ready to be lit and the dark stains that were on the floor, stains he knew to be old blood that had seeped into carpet. Experience had taught him what those exact candles combined with those exact herbs and those runes meant and what had before just been a slightly loony hook up took on a much more sinister cast. The kind that meant he didn’t dare risk leaving by the front door.

Shit, shit, shit. He checked the single window, since he was pretty sure Lex wasn’t going to be on the phone forever, to see if escape was viable through it. Looking down the building he saw ledges and psudo balconies and sent a mental prayer of thanks to whoever was looking out for him. Then he opened the window and began the climb down. He might be arrested for indecent exposure but that was better than the alternative.

\---------------------------------

His day had been a disaster, a horrific nightmare, a clusterfuck of extreme proportions. He’d chased down an Atlantean slug slime dealer with his partner, gotten attacked and chewed on by said dealer’s pet amphiptere before the damned thing had fully eaten his favorite leather jacket, and when he’d managed to get out of its mouth it had been to the sight of the dealer pumping five wolfsbane bullets into his partner before Boyd had tackled the bastard and cuffed him. Then Boyd had passed out and left Derek to deal with the processing of the dealer, the pet amphiptere, and the EMTs who’d arrived for Boyd.

Boyd was currently in the hospital recovering from the wolfsbane poisoning and Derek had finally gotten home to his apartment after hours hunched over the case paperwork. He wanted a hot cup of tea, to open up his sliding glass door to his psudo balcony to breathe in the night air, and forget today had happened.

So of course, in keeping with the day from hell, as soon as he slid his sliding door open he found himself staring at a stranger’s penis, scrotum, and part of an ass with the way one leg was on the edge of his balcony and the other was above his sliding door while the stranger’s hands were hanging onto the window ledge above. _Of course_ this is what he would come home to.

He was absolutely done with this day and growled, “Are you aware that indecent exposure comes with, at minimum a hefty fine and registry on a sex offender list?”

He wasn’t expecting the naked stranger to yelp and let go.

The voice startled Stiles so badly his hands had lost their grip before he could process and then he was falling. Oh shit he was falling and at best he’d have a broken bone, more likely he’d die as soon as he hit the pavement. Damn it!

Before he had more than that instant to panic and imagine himself as street pizza, the guy who’d startled him had grabbed his arm and, with one hand, lifted him up and into the apartment.

“I don’t even know why I’m bothering to pull you in. I do not need naked moron added to my list of troubles.”

“Excuse me! I did not ask you to scare the shit out of me like that. If you hadn’t startled me nothing would have happened.”

“Except you flashing Mrs. Pritchard on the bottom floor because you’re stupid enough to climb down the side of a building buck ass naked.”

“I didn’t choose to do this you asshole! I just figured climbing down the side a building naked was better than being sacrificed by my crazy ass bar hook up! Excuse me for not wanting to have my throat sliced so a demon could be called into the world,” Stiles snarled right back at the grumpy, and yeah okay he was hot, guy who’d scared him off the building then caught him.

Derek’s brows slammed down in a darker scowl, “What?”

“Guy...or girl, I didn’t get that far in finding out, in the apartment above yours,” Stiles flicked his thumb in an upward gesture. 

“I met them in a bar and came back with them, got cuffed to their headboard then thoroughly freaked out by the toys they brought out before someone called them. I’d have gone out the front door, fully clothed, but before I could go get my clothes I saw the sacrificial altar in the closet Lex got the toys out of. And let me tell you buddy, pissing off a black magic user is so not on my list of ways to die.”

“You’re sure it was a black magic sacrificial altar?” Derek asked, face gone from an angry scowl to a serious neutrality.

“Dude I’m a Homespark. I might not mess with that shit but I know how to recognize it. Who-” Stiles’ brows winged up when he saw Hot Balcony Guy turn to the dresser and grab a badge from it before unlocking the gunsafe and getting out a Gen4 Glock from the safe.

“Stay here, find something to cover up with,” Derek pulled out his phone and put a call into dispatch for back up as he left.

Stiles had to admit to being impressed with Officer Sexy Pants’ quick assessment and reaction. He glanced briefly around the bedroom then, deciding that it might be a little less weird not to dig through the guy’s bedroom for something to keep him from flapping in the breeze, he went out into the living area where he found a fleece throw. He wrapped it around himself toga style, amused by the ridiculous wolf pattern, then jittered and paced around before ducking into the tiny kitchen for something to do to keep from jumping out of his skin.

He found a selection of teas extensive enough to impress a connoisseur and blended some linden flowers, chamomile, and hawthorn tea from what there was. He figured Officer Sexy Pants could use a relaxing tea after having been exposed to a stranger’s genetalia then going upstairs to take out a black magic user.

As the tea was steeping he heard thumping from upstairs, a little chanting, and winced when an ear-piercing wail raised the hair on the back of his neck. He poured a mugs and waited on the living area couch, sipping tea and watching the door. It was really a perfect position to appreciate Officer Sexy when he came back in, black t-shirt that looked like it might be a size, maybe two sizes, too small clinging close to a _very_ nice torso, gun hooked onto his belt and yeah that was all kinds of material for the spank bank.

He raised an eyebrow at the sweatpants and sweatshirt Officer Sexy carried in with him, “Those are not my clothes.” Then he had to squawk when the sweats hit him full in the face. “Hey!”

“Your clothes were a casualty,” Derek said, trying to get over the ridiculous image of the stranger sitting on his couch, drinking tea, and basically wearing the fleece throw his baby sister had made for him when she’d been five.

Stiles got up, carrying the clothes into the bathroom with him, “You sound like Lydia. Thanks for not arresting me for indecent exposure though.” He left a small crack on the bathroom door so he could hear the cop’s response. If the cop responded that was.

“That would be victim blaming.” Derek sniffed the air, “You made tea?”

“Yeeeeah. Getting a look at your tea cupboard, I approve by the way-”

“Because the approval of a naked stranger is all I have ever wanted,” it was a deadpan interjection.

“There are people who fight each other for my approval Mr. Judgey Eyebrows,” Stiles fired back. “In any case, after I took a look I figured you might appreciate a calming cup of tea after having a strange cock waved in your face then kicking black magic ass plus I’ve had a pretty tense evening so I made tea.”

“It’s Derek,” he poured a cup of tea from the cozied pot left on the table, “Detective Derek Hale, not ‘Mr. Judgey Eyebrows’.”

“Hey those things have their own zip code so in lieu of a name at the time,” Stiles tied the drawstring on the sweatpants tight because they’d probably fall off with one good bounce otherwise. “Hale? Any relation to the Fire Chief?”

“My father, remember him from fire safety day in kindergarten?” Derek took a sip of the tea, pleased with the taste.

“Man screw you I am not that much younger than you...probably. I’m twenty five and no. I know your Dad from the occasional meeting at those hell zones disguised as parties for the public servants.” Stiles tugged the shirt on and padded out on bare feet. “Stiles Stilinski.” 

Derek choked a little on his tea, “You’re the Sheriff’s son? The one that turned the entire lacrosse team blue?”

“That was an _accident_. The purple hair was on purpose,” Stiles said with a grin, “And I’m pretty sure my Dad only has one son so yeah, c’est moi.” He glanced down at the shirt and the BHSPD logo on it, “I’m guessing you report directly to Peter. You have my eternal pity.” 

He snorted, “Appreciated. Now,” he handed Stiles a pair of tai chi slippers and his guest’s wallet, keys, and phone, “Get those shoes on and get out.”

“I am overwhelmed by this hospitality. Tell me,” Stiles said as he bent to put the shoes on, “how do you possibly manage to intimidate suspects with such a sunny, sweet personality?”

Derek gripped him by the arm and dragged Stiles, go cup of tea and all, to the door.

“Ah sheer physical force, perfectly understandable you are quite the mountain of musc- oh hey Parrish!” Stiles chirped as the door was opened to a deputy there, fist lifted to knock.

“Stiles,” Jordan’s lips twitched just a bit, “I was just about to knock to get your statement.”

“Just take him and go,” Derek gently pushed Stiles at Jordan, “I’ll fill out the report tomorrow.” So saying he closed the door with a little snap, shutting Stiles and Jordan out.

“Is he always so nice,” Stiles snarked.

“Not really, he’s usually meaner,” Jordan responded and began walking, knowing that stiles would follow, “I’ll give you a ride home and you can give your statement on the way.”

“Thanks Jordan.” Stiles considered how his evening had turned out and the grumpy, very _hot_ cop that had helped him out after nearly scaring him to an ignominious death, “Can you stop by the store on the way? I need to pick up the fixings for cookies.”


	2. Chapter 2

Paperwork. Paperwork was, in Derek’s opinion, a worse evil than anything else he dealt with in the line of duty. It just seemed to multiply and pile up on even the most diligent officer’s desk. It bred worse than rabbits. Reports spawned paperwork to assert that you did, indeed, follow procedure, and that eventually spawned more paperwork when _lawyers_ got involved with their rebuttals and injunctions. Then there was the paperwork that came from your partner being shot, followed by the requisitions form for a replacement for a leather jacket eaten by an amphiptere. Derek knew he’d actually _get_ that jacket replaced by the department when hell froze over but at least he’d have the req form filled out in the event a miracle happened.

He was filling out the final line of his report on the incident at his apartment, when suddenly a paper bag that smelled like heaven was dangled in front of him. Jerking his head up he saw the Sheriff’s son standing in front of his desk, a faint smirk on his face.

“You know, if you glared at that form any harder you might succeed in making it burst into flames.” Stiles eased a hip onto Detective Derek Hale’s desk.

“It’s the report on how I came to discover a level four illegal black magic practitioner in my apartment building.” Derek leaned back in his chair, turning the form over so only the blank side showed, and swiveled in the creaky, squeaky chair to better face the attractive little shit sitting on his desk. “As it was an unpleasant evening for me, I’m not keen on recounting it for the official record.”

“Awww I’m hurt. I’d think at least the tea would have been a high point.”

“Not when it’s brewed by an idiot in a wolf print make-shift toga.”

Stiles hooted out a laugh. “Well it felt skeevy to go digging through your drawers after you already got a surprise viewing of my naughty bits.”

Derek felt heat creeping up the back of his neck when he felt eyes on him and Stiles. This would get around the department and to his uncle entirely too fast for his peace of mind. And as soon as his uncle knew, his mother would find out and he'd be prodded into a family dinner to make sure he was 'okay' and not suffering any trauma from what was essentially a farce.

"Why are you here?" He growled it out and was disappointed when that just made the little shit grin wider. Humans were supposed to be _intimidated_ when a predator growled at them, not amused.

Stiles lifted and waggled the paper bag in his hand. “I brought apology cookies.”

“You bought me cookies?”

Derek’s brows scrunched together in an expression that somehow managed to blend confusion and surliness. Stiles found it damned adorable. He set the bag on the desk in front of Derek without putting it on any paperwork. “Correction, I _baked_ you cookies to apology for the view you were greeted with last night on your balcony.”

“Should I worry about food poisoning?” Derek muttered, even though he could smell the cookies and it made his mouth water. 

“People have been known to fight to the death for my cookies, Detective Delish.” Stiles hopped off the corner of the desk and headed out of the Supernatural Division of the station with that parting shot. Oh yeah, Derek Hale was yummier than his cookies and adorable on top of that. He’d have to do a little digging to find out what Detective Hale’s favorite sort of foods were because he was going to become a regular fixture in Derek’s life and he’d be using his food to get his foot in the door.

Derek frowned at the retreating back, and admittedly well turned shoulders, of Stiles Stilinski then looked at the bag left on his desk. He _should_ toss them out or give them to someone else in the department. Erica maybe. Or possibly the hyena shifter that was eyeing the bag like it held the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. Yes he should give them away but they smelled too damned good to give away.

He opened the bag and almost groaned as he got a full sniff of the cookies. He could smell dark chocolate and caramel and the faintest hint of Guinness with the alcohol content burned out. He drew one out, took a testing bite, and could have sworn he actually had a small, quiet orgasm when the flavor danced over his tongue. These things were _dangerous_ and all his, no way in hell was he sharing.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Stiles poked his head into his Dad’s office, beaming with his good mood. “Hey there Daddio.”

John looked up, his expression neutral. “Climbing down the side of a building naked Stiles?”

“If you know that then you know the why.” Stiles walked in further and settled into one of the crappy visitor’s chairs. “Not like I could take on a level four offensive is it?”

“No but you could have screamed out the window instead of giving one of my detectives the full monty. I’m going to hear about this from Talia and James for weeks kid.”

“Why? I mean I know he’s their son but other than an embarrassing story I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“It has to do with Derek’s past. And no. I’m not going to tell you.” John narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “And you are not going to be hacking records or I will ground you. Adult with your own home or not I will ground you for a month. House arrest.”

Stiles shrugged casually, his curiosity up now. “I have other ways of digging. You can tell his parents I apologized and even brought apology cookies.”

“You made Detective Hale cookies?”

“The Chocolate-Caramel Guinness cookies.” Stiles laughed at his father’s pout. “I might have made extra and brought you a couple except I heard about the burger.”

“Damn it do you have spies everywhere? I ate that burger over in Forest Run.”

He got up and headed for the door. “My spies are legion. The burger is why I popped my head in.” Stiles gave his Dad a sweet smile. “I replaced all the food in your fridge before I came by with the apology cookies.” He darted out before his Dad could react.

“Goddammit Stiles if I see tofu in my kitchen I’m arresting you!”

Every cop that heard him laughed and held the doors open for Stiles’ exit.


End file.
